The Only Thing We Have To Fear
by chris locke
Summary: Someone is picking off the countries one by one. Nobody knows who or why. But a situation that should bring them closer together is instead ripping them apart. Lots of death and some violence. Slash later. ON TEMPORARY HIATUS.
1. 1

_Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine. :(_

_Warnings: Character death (lots of it), slash later, depressing situations, sadness, violence._

_I don't know if this should be rated T or M. So I'm keeping it T. For now._

...

The last of the sunlight was fading from the sky, lighting everything sharply orange. It was as though the world was in absolute focus, almost surreal. That included the man walking down the stone pathway in the park, his long scarf flying out on the light wind. He was taller than anyone else who happened to be strolling at the time, and he wore a thick, long winter coat.

He had his hands in his pockets as he stopped by the small stream that cut the park in two. As it was mid-autumn, there were many red and orange leaves scattered along the ground, some blown a bit by the wind. His eyes fell on one large red leaf, watching it as it rolled along the ground before landing in the water.

It floated down the lazy stream, twirling a bit as it hit a rock. The tall man followed the leaf down the stream, watching it flip and spin around. It ducked under the water only to pop back up again. He smiled a little, watching as the leaf continued down the stream.

Suddenly, the smile was wiped from his face. The leaf had stopped moving. It was stopped against something. The water flowing toward it overtook the leaf, making it duck underwater.

The leaf was stopped against someone's arm. The arm floated in the shallow water, the rest of the body unmoving. The man sucked in a quick breath, rushing toward the body in the water. It was a young-looking girl with short blonde hair. In the middle of her chest was a large bloodstain. The blood was still flowing down the river. This had happened just then. Right while the man had been in the park.

She was obviously dead. Her lifeless eyes stared up at the sky, her hands by her sides. There was a purple ribbon in her hair, and for a moment the man thought of his own sisters. For a moment he imagined them in the place of this little girl, and the thought almost brought tears to his eyes.

He pulled the girl's body up onto the bank. Then he looked down at his watch. It was almost time for the international meeting to start. He would have to tell the other countries about this.

What if the killer was still in the park? It was more than likely. He (or she, it was always a possibility) would be either eager to get away or eager to see their handiwork. The man had never killed anyone in cold blood (except during war, but that was different) but he knew what it was like to hurt someone.

"_Who are you?" _he whispered to himself in Russian. The girl looked only about thirteen or fourteen. Who in their right mind would kill such a young girl?

Unless…no. The thought of someone…_using_ this girl made him sick to his stomach. He pushed the thought from his mind. It was disgusting, the idea itself.

He stood, wondering what to do. Suddenly, an idea struck him. He pulled out the cell phone he'd "borrowed" from his younger sister for the trip and dialed a number. He hoped it was the right one, being unversed in the American emergency numbers.

A voice picked up immediately. "911, what's your emergency?"

Russia was suddenly at a loss for what to say. What, should he just go "I found a dead little girl in a stream?"

"I found a dead lit—body."

"Okay, where are you at?"

"I'm in…" he squinted at the large sign at the other end of the park. "Painted Lady Park, by the stream."

"Okay, I'm sending the police right now. Are you sure this person is dead?"

"Yes."

"How did you find this person?"

"She was lying in the stream."

"What does she look like?"

"She has blonde hair with a purple ribbon in it, and she seems to be about thirteen."

"Is there evidence of injury?"

"Yes. She is bleeding from her chest."

"Okay, thank you. We'll be there in just a moment."

Ivan hung up the phone. The police station was very close to the park, only a few blocks away. They would be here soon. They'd probably ask him questions and take him to the police station with them.

Suddenly, a wave of fear washed over him. He looked down at his hand, where he carried his usual pipe. His pipe. They would think that he'd killed the girl. He couldn't have that, especially not in America. What would his people think when he, the _embodiment of Russia itself_ got arrested for murder inthe_ States._ He would never live it down.

So he decided to walk away. As calmly as he always was, he strolled out of the park and down the street, carefully concealing the pipe in his sleeve. He smiled as he watched the police cars rush by. At least he was doing that poor little girl as much of a favor as possible.

He looked at his watch again. The meeting was starting in ten minutes. As he walked into the office building where it was taking place he felt somehow relieved not to have to deal with the body any more.

He stepped into the room, looking around. Many of the others were already there, while a few were trickling in behind him. He sat down in his usual place by the head of the table, staring down at the wood.

"Hello, Russia," a timid voice said. He turned around to see Lithuania standing behind him, smiling.

"Hello," he said simply. The smaller nation stood there for a second more before smiling and walking away. Toris had always been like that, too jumpy and nervous around Russia. Around the other countries he seemed fine, but it was around his former captor that he paled.

The minutes went by slowly, as people walked in. There were altogether too many countries, Russia thought. If they would all just become one with him then these meetings would take far less than the two days they devoured.

"Hey, everybody!" a familiar nasal voice said loudly. Russia sighed.

America walked in, grinning around the hamburger shoved in his mouth. Germany, who had been just about to begin the meeting, was not amused. He gestured for America to sit down, which he did lazily.

"Alright, let's begin."

Suddenly, one of the smaller nations jumped up, looking around. He had short blonde hair.

"Wait just a second," he said to a very irritated Germany. "Has anybody seen Lichtenstein?"

Russia's eyes widened, but he hid it quickly. Was it possible that…no. It was just a coincidence. In fact, he'd never seen Switzerland's sibling. He had no idea what she looked like.

Nobody had an answer for him. He looked around, as though she would just appear at the table. She didn't.

"I bet she's back at our apart—" he was cut off by a ringing. He pulled out his phone, staring at the unfamiliar number. "Hello?"

He paused a moment, listening to the person on the other side. His eyes widened. "Yes, I am."

"Who is it?" Austria asked quietly.

"What?" Switzerland's breath caught. "What's wrong with her?"

Everyone at the table was silent as they watched the panicking nation. He swallowed thickly.

"Oh, God…" he whispered, tears forming in his eyes. "Oh, God…yes…I'll be right there…" He closed the phone, eyes unfocused.

Austria put his hand on his friend's arm, but it was jerked away. There was a moment of silence before Switzerland snatched up his coat from his seat and dashed out of the room. Nobody moved.

Germany stared at the door. How was he going to start this damn meeting now? He didn't break the hush that covered the table.

"What happened?" Latvia's small voice broke the silence. The young country was staring at everyone, wide-eyed.

"It's okay," Estonia said comfortingly. "Nothing important to you."

"Then why the heck is everyone so quiet?"

"He'll be fine," Lithuania said, giving Latvia an almost motherly look.

Germany cleared his throat, glad that he hadn't been the one to speak first. He sighed, stacking up his papers into a neat pile.

"Well then, I suppose we should get on with the meeting. Um…the first thing we have to cover is finances."

Prussia coughed once. "I don't think anybody wants to talk about finances, bro."

Germany nodded. "I'll give you all a minute, but then we have to get focused."

America had stopped eating his hamburger. Apparently the situation had touched him that much. He stood up, leaving the half-eaten burger on the table.

"Everybody?" he said, stepping up to the podium. Nobody responded.

"Um, I just wanted to say that everything's gonna be okay."

Everybody was watching America closely. He'd never really said anything heartfelt before. Maybe now he would.

"Switz is gonna be fine, and so is his sister. I'm sure."

Now even England was listening. America grinned at everybody, flashing them a thumbs up.

"And how do I know this, you ask? Because I'm the hero, of course!"

There was a simultaneous groan from every nation. Of course it had been too much to hope that America would come around now. Somehow, though, the mood was lighter after America's speechlet, and when Germany took the podium again the perpetual depressed sigh was gone.

"America, just go away," he said, pushing the other country away. "Okay, then. On to those finances."

It was about two hours of regular meeting before Switzerland came back. He arrived during the small lunch break, head down. His eyes were rimmed in red.

He sat down, taking a shaky breath. There weren't many people still seated, as most of them had gone to get food, talk and use the restroom.

"Hey, man," Prussia said, patting him on the shoulder. Switzerland didn't respond. "S'okay, don't need to say anything." This was strangely out of character for the normally active and uncaring country.

Russia watched Switzerland from the far corner of the table. The smaller nation was staring blankly at his hands. He had an almost expressionless look on his face.

"I'm sorry," Austria said, quietly.

"What for?" Switzerland asked, his voice cracking. "You didn't do anything."

Lithuania walked into the room, and upon seeing Switzerland his face turned dark. He walked toward the other.

"How are you?" he asked quietly. He had never really spoken with the blonde country, but he felt that he should do something.

Switzerland didn't answer. He was still staring at his hands.

"Uh, just remember that we're all here for you," Liet said before sitting next to him.

"She…someone found her…there was…"

"What?"

"Someone found her in the park and left. She got…she got stabbed. Seven times. There was no evidence as far as they could tell. None."

Russia's mouth opened in surprise. So the little girl he'd found in the park was…Switzerland's sister? He took a deep breath, not letting anyone know. The room was strangely empty. Usually people would be coming back by now, wouldn't they?

No, still too early. Time was going slowly, wasn't it? Russia watched the now crying Switzerland blankly. The smaller nation was shaking, his head down.

Lithuania pulled the other into a light hug. Switzerland threw his arms around Liet, sobbing into his shoulder. Russia was confused a bit. The two had never really spoken, let alone gotten to know each other well enough to hug. He guessed it was just the circumstances and the Baltic nation's undying kindness and compassion. It really got annoying sometimes.

Liet froze in surprise at the blond nation's reaction, slowly smiling. He put his arms around Switzerland, hugging him back. It was sweet, and Russia felt a twinge of protectiveness over Lithuania. He shook it off. Couldn't overreact now.

A few others were coming back into the room, some talking lightly. They all watched the hug as they came in, some turning away and others staring. When France walked in, Russia caught the glimmer in his eyes.

"Ah, so touching, the love~!" he said, almost floating over to the two. He joined in the hug, squeezing both Switzerland and Lithuania. The former didn't look up, but Liet jumped. As America walked in he grinned.

"Group hug!" he yelled, nearly leaping over the table to join. Austria rolled his eyes, showing concern not only for Switzerland's feelings but now his body. He was going to be crushed at this rate.

Northern Italy leaped from his seat, going over to help out the "comforting" hug. Latvia and Sealand had joined together, laughing. Italy beckoned to Germany and Japan. When neither came, he ran over, grabbing Germany by the wrist. He left Japan alone after receiving one of the most intimidating looks in his life.

"Awww!" Poland rushed over, smiling. "That's, like, adorable!" he grabbed Lithuania around the waist, holding him like a teddy bear.

China didn't even speak as he came in, eyes glinting. He smiled widely, saying merely "aru" as he gave a tight hug.

There were now ten people making up this large mass of embraces. Nobody else seemed to join in for a second, until Hungary came up. She smiled happily, taking Austria's wrist as they joined the hug. Russia doubted that she knew why they were hugging at all.

"This is awesome!" Prussia said loudly, leaping into the group. He landed uncomfortably and got lost somewhere.

Russia watched in amusement as the hug ensued. There was a yelp as France most likely groped someone. What nobody saw was the small body weaving their way out of the group. Switzerland was no longer crying.

He wiggled his way out of the oblivious group, walking around the table to sit next to Russia. The taller nation looked at him curiously, not saying anything.

"What the hell?" England had arrived.

"Hey, Iggy! Group hug!"

"Ah! France!" France had obviously touched someone again.

England narrowed his eyes. He strode quickly over to the group, pulling France out by his hair.

"Git! What do you think you're doing?"

"I was just—"

"I don't care what 'you were just!' Don't go sticking your hands on people's arses, got it?"

"Jealous?"

That earned France a punch. He stumbled backward, in pain but satisfied at the reaction his jab had on England.

"You wish!"

Switzerland watched this all stoically, his features set. Russia watched the younger nation. He wasn't crying anymore, instead staring at the table. The taller man wasn't going to go and talk to him just yet. He needed time to think.

"Okay, everyone!" Germany yelled from somewhere inside the group. "We have to continue the meeting!"

"Not everyone's back yet," Japan said quietly.

"Well, get them back!"

"Russia?"

Russia looked down at Switzerland, who stared up at him. He coughed once.

"Have you ever lost someone?"

Russia nodded.

"Who?"

"Everyone but my sisters. And…never mind." Russia's mind flitted momentarily to Winter. General Winter. No, that wasn't really a person, he thought. Not a person.

"Oh."

The silence was uncomfortable, punctuated by a yell. Lithuania was apparently being suffocated, and France had rejoined the group with the intent to smite England by groping every person there. Germany was trying to fight his way out as Northern Italy pulled him back. Japan, Spain and Sweden all watched in silence. America had weaseled his way out (having been replaced by a very confused Canada). Now he was giving commentary on the scene in an exaggerated Australian accent like it was a nature show, much to the dismay of the actual Australia, who'd actually decided to show up for once. South Korea was munching on popcorn, all the while blabbing on about how it was a Korean invention, and how everyone's clothing was Korean, and how it would be better if they took it off so he could touch them all better. In a second or two he realized what was happening in front of him and dropped his popcorn to go touch people.

"Everyone," Russia said quietly. Nobody responded.

A dark aura started to form around the man's head. "Everyone," he said louder. Still no one stopped what they were doing.

He sighed. "Everyone!" he yelled loudly. Everybody froze, eyes on him. "How can you be this insensitive?"

"What?" America forgot to get rid of the Australian accent.

"Our comrade has just lost his sister and you are all acting like children. Do you not care?"

The mood of the room turned from light and happy to dead serious in a matter of seconds. Prussia swallowed loudly, eyes wide.

"I do not think you would like it if all your friends shrugged the death of your only family off like a joke," Russia continued. The fear of everyone in the room was evident.

"We didn't do anything," Japan said, staring at Russia calmly.

"You did not stop them."

Russia had no idea why he was doing this. It was like he was reprimanding school kids. Maybe it was to clear his mind of the vision of Lichtenstein, dead. Maybe it was simply because he did not like the noise. It certainly wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. He doubted he had that.

Switzerland had tears in his eyes again, staring at Russia. The cold and unresponsive nation was now…protecting him? Defending him? Helping him?

"You didn't stop them either," Spain said.

"Did I not just?"

To that there was no answer. It was a rhetorical question anyway. What, were they going to say no? That he hadn't stopped it?

"Everyone sit down." They complied, all eyes on Russia. "Now, we have a murder on our hands. Of a fellow nation. We cannot let this go unattended."

America was the first to buy into this, excited at the chance to be a "hero."

"Yeah! We have to find whoever did this! I'll lead the investigation and—"

"America, please be quiet."

"We have to find whoever…did that to my sister. We have to find them and kill them!" Switzerland stood up, hands slamming into the table. He looked like he was going to cry again.

"Да, we do."

Switzerland looked at Russia, a thank you clear on his face. He looked back at the group, eyes set.

"Is anyone going to help me?"

"Wait a minute," Latvia said, eyes wide.

"What?"

"What if it was one of us?"

Everyone in the room froze.

...

_Ooooh...what will happen next?_

_If you find any typos I'll give you a hug :)_

_Please review! It makes me very happy! And a happy author is a faster author!_


	2. 2, 3

_Disclaimer: Hetalia not mine. _

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I hope you enjoy the second chapter!_

...

"Th-that's impossible," Lithuania stuttered.

"Either that or everyone is a very good actor," Estonia said.

"Which one would it be?"

"Did anybody not like Lichtenstein?"

"No," Switzerland said shakily. "Everyone loved her. There's no way."

"Where was she the past few days?"

Switzerland looked away. He didn't want to think any more about his sister, but he needed to. "She was in our hotel room most of the time. She was out shopping for food yesterday, but nothing happened."

"Did you say that someone stabbed her?"

Switzerland nodded, eyes wide. Unconsciously, all the eyes in the room turned to Belarus, who had been sitting in the corner the whole time. She held up her hands.

"It wasn't me. I swear. Vanya, you know, I don't even have my knife with me. Anyway, I always thought that Lichtenstein was cute."

Everyone seemed satisfied with her answer. They all knew that she only used the knife on people who tried to get between her and Russia. Lichtenstein and Russia had never met, let alone had an affair. The very idea was sickening to most. (Most meaning everyone but France, who thought it would be sexy.)

"Hey," Belarus said, "If it's anyone it's Lithuania." She said his name with distain. The Baltic nation stared at her wide-eyed.

"I don't think that's physically possible," America said, scratching his head. "Is it even allowed by the laws of physics for Liet to hurt someone?"

There was a unanimous no, so Lithuania was safe. Belarus shot him a look filled with hatred. God, she was pretty. He shook his head, dispelling the thought.

"I actually saw her at the store yesterday," Northern Italy said, looking up in thought.

"Really?" Switzerland leaned forward on the table. "What happened?"

"Nothing, we just talked."

Switzerland visibly deflated. He sighed heavily, sinking back into his chair. He was beginning to lose hope.

"I think it's Russia."

A silence fell over everyone. The speaker was the small boy, Sealand. He stared at Russia, wide-eyed.

"He does have that pipe."

"And he wants to annex everyone.'

"He's always keeping to himself."

"Maybe defending Switzerland was just a cover."

"Yeah. He's pretty creepy."

Russia sighed, shaking his head. "Why would I wish to kill a little girl?"

"Cause you're a commie," America offered.

"America, I am no longer communist, please don't try to insult me."

"So you admit!"

"Нет, America. I admit only to being innocent."

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Prussia demanded.

"You are accusing me of something I did not do."

"And?"

"Ничего."

America narrowed his eyes. "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Never mind."

"I know it means something!"

"No, America, it means 'never mind.'"

"I knew that!"

Switzerland sighed. "America, stop fooling around. I don't think that Russia did it."

All eyes were on Switzerland. Everyone was being strangely quiet today, some still in shock after Lichtenstein's death.

"I'm calling this meeting closed," Switzerland said, sighing again. He stood up. Nobody moved.

"Italy, can you tell me exactly what happened…yesterday? Like minute by minute?"

"Sure. You can call me Feliciano, you know."

"Okay."

"Hey, do you want some pasta~? Always makes me feel better!"

The two of them left the meeting room, Italy blabbing away at light speed at Switzerland. The other nations watched them leave.

"Well, I think that draws the meeting to a close," Germany said.

"Are all the meetings like this?" Australia asked, eyebrows raised. This was the first one he'd been to in, well, years.

"I sure hope not," England said, standing. He then walked out the door. His departure seemed to signify the end, and everyone began to get up after him.

Germany and Russia were the last ones in the room. Russia stared at a point in the center of the table. Germany sighed and stepped toward him.

"Good job earlier," he said, putting his hand on Russia's shoulder. Russia stood up suddenly, surprising Germany.

"Thank you, I must be going." Russia gave Germany his usual smile before stepping out of the room. He walked down the hallway, sighing. This was too much for one day.

Germany sighed, gathering his belongings. He then exited the room, giving it one last glance before locking the door. He leaned on the door for a second, fingers massaging his temples. Then he shook his head and walked down the hallway. This whole meeting had been one unexpected surprise after another. They'd lost a _whole country_. Not just some little girl had died…but an entire country just didn't exist anymore. It was difficult to fathom.

Germany was suddenly struck with an idea. He started jogging down the hallway, and then down the stairs. He had to get to the pay phone on the ground floor, and he needed to make a call. Possibly a very important one.

The phone was right next to the door in the lobby, and Germany knew exactly where it was. He walked up to it, change all ready. Then he picked up the phone, carefully putting the coins in the slot.

…

There was a light ringing in Switzerland's pocket, and he held up his finger to quiet Italy as he picked it up. He flipped it open and stuck it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Switzerland? This is Germany."

"Oh, what do you want?"

"I just had a thought. You can skip out on the second day of the meeting, okay? I want you to go home and…go to Liechtenstein's house. Maybe…whoever…you know, would be living there."

"You really think they'd do that?"

"Well, they…technically control that land now, don't they?"

"I suppose. I'll see."

Without a goodbye, Switzerland shut the phone. He wasn't in the mood for formalities at this point. He turned back to Italy.

"What'd he want?"

Switzerland shook his head. "Nothing."

"Okay then. I guess I should be going back to my hotel, huh? Germany, Japan and I are sharing one. Isn't that cool?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

Italy looked at Switzerland for a moment before jumping over to hug him. Switzerland froze, watching Italy with wide eyes.

"Okay, see you!" Italy said happily, skipping down the sidewalk. Switzerland watched him leave, tears coming to his eyes as he imagined…no. He had to stop this. Still, he couldn't help the image of Liechtenstein skipping, laughing, wanting him to draw for her…

He didn't notice the footsteps behind him; they were too far away. He didn't see the shadow; it was already getting dark. He didn't notice anything as he turned down the street toward his apartment.

…

Austria walked up the stairs to the apartment building. This was Switzerland's first night without his sister. Frankly, it all seemed like it was going far too fast. Life was just going too fast.

A television in the lobby of the building was on a news channel. It was saying something about Liechtenstein. It was about how the country no longer existed, but no one was sure who had come to power.

Austria didn't trust elevators, so he walked up the long steps to the fifth story. As he walked down the hallway, he took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be the best week of his life.

He stopped at Switzerland's door, knocking a few times. Then he rested his back on the wall next to the door, arms crossed. Quietly he tapped out the right hand part of a piano piece on his arm, biting his lip.

The door didn't open. Well, he reasoned, Switzerland might be asleep. Austria knocked again, this time staying right in front of the door. There was still no answer.

He tried the doorknob, and found it unlocked. Carefully he opened it, stepping into a pitch-black room. The shades were drawn, and Austria fumbled for the light switch. His fingers hit it, illuminating everything.

Switzerland wasn't there. Austria let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, walking across the room. It was a little eerie, the complete silence. Austria walked down a small hallway, hoping that Switzerland's bedroom was there somewhere. He opened a door, finding that it led to the bathroom. Not what he needed.

There were still a few doors left. One of them was slightly open. Austria poked his head through the opening, unsurprised to find it dark. He flicked on the light, the initial brightness blinding him.

The room was covered in purple, from the carpet to the walls. The bed had a purple blanket on it. This must have been Liechtenstein's room. Austria backed out, not wanting to disturb anything.

The last room must be Switzerland's then, he reasoned. He turned the doorknob, opening the door. The light from the hallway flooding inside.

He saw blond hair sitting on top of the blankets. So Switzerland _was _still asleep. That was a load off of Austria's chest. The mystery was over.

He stepped over to the bed, biting his lip. Should he wake his friend up? Yes, it was almost noon. Probably for the best. He carefully shook Switzerland's shoulder. There was no response.

"Wake up," he said quietly, shaking the shoulder again. Still here was no answer, no slight stirring.

Austria sighed. Switzerland was sleeping with one hand up by his head, but other than that he was completely covered by blankets. He was almost cute. Austria grabbed his hand, shaking it a little.

Switzerland was a heavy sleeper. Austria shook his head, as though berating a small child. He pulled Switzerland's arm out from under the blanket, hoping to wake him up with more movement.

The moment Switzerland's elbow breached the covers, Austria gasped. There was blood soaking Switzerland's shirt, which had been rolled up. There was a lot of blood.

Austria dropped the arm, stepping back. Eyes wide, he pulled back the blanket, revealing the rest of Switzerland's body.

There was blood everywhere. It was soaking into the sheets, the blanket, his clothing. And it was coming from his chest. Switzerland was…dead. Dead.

Austria fell to the ground, barely catching himself on his hands. Switzerland was dead, like his sister. They were both gone. It was…he was dreaming. This wasn't possible.

His heart was pounding nearly out of his chest, and he couldn't catch his breath. Switzerland lay on the bed limply, unseeing eyes staring at the wall just above Austria's head. How had he not seen that before? The eyes were so dead…so wrong…

Austria got to his feet and stumbled out into the hall. Dead…dead…dead…Switzerland was dead…Liechtenstein was dead, too…

He made it into the kitchen, nearly slamming the phone into the floor as he picked it up. He fumbled for the numbers, swallowing heavily.

"Hello?"

"Prussia!" he said in relief.

"What's up?"

"I…I don't…you have to come here."

"Where are you?"

"In Switzerland's apartment."

"Oooh, whatcha doing in there?"

"Switzerland's dead."

There was silence from the other end. Slowly, Prussia began to speak again. "A-are you serious?"

"Get here quickly."

"Damn…" Prussia whispered. "I'll be there in, like, two seconds!" The line went dead, and Austria let his head fall against the wall.

He couldn't get the image of all the blood out of his head. There was so much…did a person even have that much blood in them? Was that even _possible_, to bleed that much after you were dead?

Or, he thought, maybe he'd been alive. Maybe he'd been alive and bleeding as whoever killed him just walked away, laughing maniacally. They'd licked the blood off of the knife and then stuck it in the wall as they left…

No. That was a blatant fantasy, and Austria knew it. He couldn't let his imagination take away reality like that, especially not in this situation. Now he needed poise and control. He straightened his back, lifting his chin. Now was not the time to be groveling on the floor like he…like he wanted to so badly.

It was times like this when Austria wondered why there was any war at all. How could anyone stand to watch blood like this…willingly. How could they _create_ this suffering and not blink twice? It was impossible.

Suddenly, there was a pounding. Prussia stumbled in, out of breath. He looked up at Austria, wide-eyed.

"God, glad I found you!" he dashed across the room to Austria, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Prussia, what—"

"Japan's dead, too."

The world seemed to stop. "Are you…serious?"

Prussia nodded, biting his lip. "Italy found him and came running into my hotel room. He got stabbed."

Austria's mind immediately flicked to the image of Switzerland, blood pouring from his chest. "Switzerland did too."

Prussia let go of Austria's shoulders, running out of the kitchen. Austria sank down to the floor, letting his head lean back against the kitchen cabinets. A minute later, Prussia walked back in. He had a bit of blood on his hand. It was probably Switzerland's.

"Yeah…he got stabbed. His body's a mess. Looks like it was eight or nine times."

"We need to tell the others."

"Yeah…it's like someone's…picking us off."

…

When China arrived at the hotel, Italy was in hysterics. He wasn't wearing anything but a jacket, so someone had given him a blanket. He was babbling to a police officer.

"…and he and I were talking and I said I was scared about Liechtenstein, and he said it would be okay and then he hugged me and then I was gonna go take a shower and…I didn't take that long! But when I got back to the room, cause Ludwig was out and Kiku and I were the only ones in the room and I didn't see him so I called his name and then he didn't answer so I did it again and then I saw him! I saw him on the floor and there was blood everywhere and all I remember was the blood and then I saw that he got stabbed and I ran and I went to tell someone and I got Prussia and I told him and he called you and I think I was crying I don't remember if I was crying and…and…"

China walked up to the officer, tapping him on the shoulder. Remaining as emotionless as possible, he spoke.

"May I see Ja—Kiku?"

The officer quieted Italy, standing. "Sorry, ma'am, only close friends and family."

"I am…" China winced as he corrected himself, "…was, his official guardian. And I'm male."

"And I'm supposed to believe that."

China sighed sharply. "If you need any verification, I'd be more than happy to call up your President. And you'll have to trust me on the second bit," he said, pulling out his cell policeman opened his mouth as though about to say something.

"Er, go ahead."

"Oh, I thought you requested proof. Oh, well. I suppose that your President is very busy and would not like the disturbance." He passed the confused man, closing his eyes for a second.

Japan was dead. Not that China hadn't seen quite a bit of death in his four thousand years. In fact, death seemed to be the only constant. Countries came and went, people changed and grew old. And yet…the death of Japan was different.

He'd found Japan when he was young. He'd been walking, and he still remembered seeing the small child sitting in the middle of the forest. The child had been impolite, had learned too fast, had never thanked China for all he'd done. How he'd only fought China, hurting him, leaving him.

And yet, in the end China still cared for the little boy. And he still felt the tears he'd been ignoring come to his eyes as he approached the bloody stretcher.

It seemed so out of place, standing out in the crowd of people rushing around. Why were there so many people?

China walked up to the stretcher, reaching up to pull back the sheet. As he did, he took in a deep breath.

Under the sheet was Japan, of course. Only now his eyes were closed, and his chest didn't rise or fall. China stared at him for a moment, eyes seemingly searching for something in Japan's face. He looked peaceful, not worried, for once.

Suddenly, the reality of what was happening hit China. Up until now it had been sort of a dream. Japan wasn't dead. He'd be there in the morning.

But no. He wasn't breathing. Japan was no more. Someone was talking about power changes in Japan. A new leader was taking the throne. And nobody knew who it was.

China felt the tears grow in his eyes, blotting his vision. He let one fall from his eye, down his cheek. His nose was starting to sting.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the unmoving form on the stretcher. Then, as though on cue, two paramedics came up, covered Japan's face again and rolled it into the back of a car. China watched them.

Germany came running up to China, an expression of disbelief on his face. He stopped next to him, watching the truck roll away.

"I just got called…" he said quietly.

"Hm."

"Is it…true? Is he really…"

"Yes."

China decided to keep to one-syllable answers. He wasn't sure he could manage much more as he watched the truck turn the corner and disappear down the street.

Germany looked back to Italy, then to China again. "Japan's not the only one. Someone got Switzerland this morning, too. East told me."

"Oh."

Germany didn't say anything else, instead deciding to go join Italy. China didn't turn his head. He took a deep breath, staring down the street. The tears were falling freely down his face, but he wasn't crying. He never really cried. That had stopped long ago.

The sun was out, and it was a perfectly bright day. There were a few puffy white clouds dotting the intense blue. It was a perfect day in New York City.

Not perfect. China doubted if anything could be perfect again. Three countries now, just gone. Dead. Dead countries were like dead humans. Sure, someone could come along and call themselves Japan. Someone would remember what Japan was like. But, in the end, they'd be a different person, with a different personality. It would never be the same. They were all countries, but they were also all people. And people…people died.

Countries could die as well.

...

_KIKUUUUUU!_

_Please review! Thank you!_

_Oh, and please forgive me if my internet translator Russian is off :( I only know how to say, like, four words in Russian._


	3. 4, 5, 6

_Hello, everyone! I've finally gotten around to updating this!_

_And, sadly, there's a bit more death._

_So, without further adieu, enjoy (or not. I know I didn't enjoy writing it D:)_

...

Italy sat on the steps to the hotel, staring out at the street. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the image of Japan…dead…lying on the floor. The blood had been cleaned from the carpet, and he and Germany had been transferred to another hotel, free of charge, but the memory wasn't going to go away. And Japan was never coming back.

He took a deep breath. He had stopped crying a while ago. He was stronger inside than he showed. When it was little things, like a scrape or a harsh word he broke down, but when it was something this undeniably serious he was almost calm. It was as though he was numb inside. He couldn't feel.

Germany was inside, sleeping. He hadn't said a word to anybody since they'd taken Japan away. He was in shock. Italy had still made the food, and Germany had eaten it. They'd watched the television. They'd slept in the same room. But it was still so unreal. Like it hadn't happened.

Someone was walking down the street, holding a raincoat. It had stopped raining long before. That meant that he'd been walking a long time.

"Italia?" the light, uncertain voice asked, walking up.

"Hm?"

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about Japan. And I brought you some snacks," Latvia said quietly. Another figure came running down the street after him.

"Latvia! You just left me!" Sealand yelled as he ran up, looking annoyed. He saw Italy, and immediately his attitude changed. "Hey," he said, sitting down on the stoop next to him.

"So, here are the snacks," Latvia said, handing Italy the box he was carrying under the raincoat.

Italy took it, not bothering to look inside. Maybe he and Germany could share them later. Then maybe he'd speak.

"Thanks," Italy said, doing his best to smile up at Latvia. It was harder than he'd expected, but the smile still came. He tried to make it genuine.

"Hey, you want to go get a bite to eat?" Sealand asked, probably hoping to lighten the mood. He put his arm around Italy's shoulders.

"More than just a bite, please," Italy joked lamely, standing.

"Where you want to go?" Latvia asked, smiling.

"I don't know," Italy said, looking down. Sealand grinned.

"Group hug!" he said, giving Italy a huge hug. Latvia smiled, timidly following.

Italy hugged them back as well as he could around the box. Oh, wait. The box.

"Let's go after I put this inside," he said, pushing the two countries away. Then he turned around, starting up the stairs. The other two waited patiently outside.

Italy closed the door after him, walking across the hotel lobby. The lady behind the front desk smiled, and Italy smiled back. It was a soulless, unreal smile.

Then he went to the elevator, casually pressing the button to go up with the corner of the box. After a few seconds the elevator doors opened, revealing a man wearing a gray hoodie. He walked nonchalantly past Italy, not giving him a second glance. His face didn't show either.

Italy barely noticed him, walking into the elevator. The doors closed and he pressed the button with the "4" on it. Room 417. Can't forget the room number.

There was a bit of soft music playing as Italy leaned against the wall. It was an old song. From the sixties or something. He didn't recognize it. It was American.

After a few seconds, the elevator ride was over and the doors opened. Italy walked out, looking down the hallway before he continued. The room was right here, on the right. He pulled out the little card and stuck it into the slot. The light on the door turned green and it unlocked.

Not bothering to do much else, Italy set the box down on the coffee table. The shower was on, so Germany wasn't around. Italy walked out of the room, putting the key card in his pocket.

As he rode back down the elevator, Italy looked down at the little watch Japan had given him. It had Mickey Mouse on it, and since Japan's death Italy had made sure he knew exactly where it was at all times.

It had been about three minutes. So Latvia and Sealand hadn't been waiting long. The elevator opened and Italy stepped into the lobby. Once again he smiled at the lady behind the desk. It was another empty smile.

He opened the doors, stepping out onto the steps. Latvia and Sealand weren't there anymore. For a second Italy felt a pang of panic. No. He had to stop worrying.

He walked down the sidewalk, looking around. Where had they gone? They hadn't stood him up, had they? No, they weren't the kind of people to do that. They were a bit too nice, weren't they? Yes, definitely.

He passed a narrow alleyway, looking down it. As he did, he saw a figure standing in the near-dark. It was starting to get late.

There was another figure, lying on the ground. Italy's eyes widened. No. No.

He started running down the alley, heart pounding. No. This couldn't be happening twice. He approached the figures, eyes searching the littered ground for blood.

He ran up, and suddenly a flood of relief rushed through him. Nobody was dead. He almost passed out.

Latvia was on the ground, clutching his shin. Sealand was staring at him, slightly amused.

"Remind me again why we don't climb walls?"

"Shut up," Latvia said, sitting up. "It really hurts."

"W-what happened?" Italy asked, lightheaded.

"Spiderman here tried to climb the wall."

"There were little spaces in between the bricks. I could get my fingers in there!"

"And then one of the bricks fell out and he dropped like a rock."

"It sounds stupid when you put it like that!"

"It was."

"A brick fell out?" Italy asked, looking around. He didn't see anything.

"Oh, I stuck it back in," Sealand said, pointing up. About ten feet above the ground there was a precariously balanced brick.

"It'll fall out and hit someone!" Italy said, eyes wide.

"Nah, it's in there pretty good," Sealand said matter-of-factly.

Latvia stood up, wincing as he put weight on his foot. "This really hurts!"

"Your own fault."

"Is not!"

"How is it not?"

"If you hadn't been yelling at me the entire time I could have concentrated!"

"Sure, I broke your concentration. Half the time you don't even acknowledge me!"

"You aren't an actual country, you know."

There was silence. Sealand stared at Latvia in disbelief. "What did you just say?" A cloud of darkness seemed to hover over him. Latvia's eyes widened.

"Ah, um, nothing. Uh…shouldn't we take Italy out?"

Sealand's dark aura disappeared immediately. "Oh, yeah! Where were we going to go?"

"There's an Italian restaurant down the street," Latvia offered.

"American-Italian food? They'd probably serve pizza or something," Italy said, furrowing his brow.

"Pizza isn't Italian?"

"They'd probably serve _American_ pizza."

"Oh, yeah. Don't you like pasta?"

Italy's ears immediately perked up at the sound of the word. "Pasta?"

"Yeah. They probably have that, too."

"We're going."

Italy started to walk down the alleyway, back toward the street. Sealand helped Latvia to his feet.

"Who's paying?" Latvia asked quietly.

Sealand smiled. It was not a good smile. "None of us," he said happily, pulling a small card out of his pocket. "I have England's credit card."

"How did you get that?"

"Don't ask questions."

"Is that what you bought the cookies with?"

"I told you not to ask questions."

…

"So, how have you been…lately?" Sealand asked, shoving in a mouthful of spaghetti. Italy watched in horror as the younger nation mutilated the perfectly good pasta.

"Uh, okay, I suppose," he said, eyes fixated on Sealand's hand. It moved over to the ketchup bottle, and Italy could feel his fingers twitching. Ketchup? On _pasta_? It was practically blasphemy!

"Good. Everyone's been taking Kiku's death pretty hard, ya know?" The ketchup bottle was raised, the cap flipped open. It was tilting slowly, and the contents started to slide around inside.

"Yeah." It was an empty response. Italy had no actual idea what they were talking about now. All he could see was the ketchup bottle as it turned, and the horrible red paste plopped disgustingly into the cap. It was about to come out, destroying what was left of the beautiful pasta…

"You seem to be pretty okay, tho—aaah!"

Italy's hand shot out, catching Sealand's wrist a moment before the ketchup fell onto the plate. He twisted, bringing the bottle back into a safe position. He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Disaster averted.

"What was that for?"

Italy silently picked up Sealand's plate, standing. Latvia watched in amusement as the older country walked through the restaurant determinedly. Sealand's eyes widened as Italy walked through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

There were a few tense moments as Sealand and Latvia waited for Italy to return. The kitchen of all places? Was he even allowed back there?

About a half hour later, Italy returned. The plate looked the same as when Sealand had first gotten it, except for the color of the sauce. It was a bit different. Just a little darker.

Italy set the plate down, taking his seat again. He cleared his throat, took a bit of pasta and smiled.

"So, what were we talking about?"

"What did you _do_?" Latvia asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"I fixed the pasta. Now, what do you want to talk about?"

"How did you fix it?"

"I added better sauce. Is this all you want to talk about?"

"You took forever!"

Italy stood up, his hands slamming down on the table. "I got you new freakin' pasta, now shut up!"

Both Sealand and Latvia froze, eyes wide. What was wrong with Italy? He never raised his voice unless he was afraid of something.

Italy cleared his throat. "Um, I mean… 've?' Or something like that."

"Um…are you okay?" Latvia was shaking. Sealand raised his eyebrows.

"You aren't Feliciano. What did you do with him?"

"Uh…what would make you think that?" Italy asked slowly. Sealand narrowed his eyes.

"Italy doesn't swear, or yell, or act mean…and your voice is lower."

Italy sighed. "Well, if you already got it then I'm not playing his retarded game. I'm Lovino."

"South Italy?"

"Oh, gee, thanks. Way to remind me how much I'm loved. Feliciano's always just 'Italy,' but I _have_ to be goddamn 'South Italy,' don't I?" Lovino rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair. Sealand still looked confused. "What?"

"Why are you here?"

"Why not?"

"That's not a good answer."

Lovino sighed. "Okay, whatever."

Latvia bit his lip timidly. "I-I s-still don't understand…"

Lovino leaned forward as though he was about to tell a story. "Okay, so my dumbass brother goes into the kitchen to get some pasta sauce or something, right?"

Sealand nodded.

"Well, some people catch him, and they ask him what the hell he's doing in there, staff only. So he tells them he's Italy, and they're like 'Okay, but what the hell?' And he says he's there to get some pasta for a friend. They kick him out, and he calls me. Tells me that I need to come take his place so you guys don't think he ditched you. He and I switched clothes for some unfathomable reason, and then he went running off somewhere. So, here I am."

Sealand looked at Latvia cautiously. "Um…"

"Look, I have to meet Antonio at nine, so I can't hang around. See ya." With that Lovino stood up and left, leaving the two smaller nations thoroughly confused.

…

Spain stood in front of the coffee shop, looking up and down the street for Lovino. The latter was supposed to have arrived on their date a few minutes before. He hadn't, and Spain was worried.

It was dark, but with the street lights he could easily see the man walking down the sidewalk. The man had a grey hoodie, shining orange in the lights. The hood obscured his face.

He walked past Spain without seeming to have noticed him, but the brunette nation saw the piece of paper slip from his pocket and fall to the ground. The man kept walking, and as he did he seemed to fade away. Spain picked up the paper curiously.

_Wait all you want, he's not coming _it said. Spain raised his eyebrows. A coincidence, probably. He put the note in his pocket, looking around.

Suddenly, he felt a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his phone. It was a text.

"Hey, it's Lovi. I have a surprise for you," Spain read aloud. "There's a vacant building in front of you. Go inside."

Spain looked down the sidewalk again. There was nobody else there. Man, did he choose the most secluded corner of New York or what?

He walked across the street. As the message said, there was a vacant building. The street light was out right in front of it, so it was completely dark inside. Spain looked in one of the windows, but he couldn't see anything.

He opened the door, finding it unlocked. "Lovino?" he called, expecting it to be a prank. South Italy was just like that.

There was no response. "Lovi?"

It was completely dark, so Spain opened his phone, using it as a flashlight. It cast a bit of blue light for a few feet in front of him, and he took a few steps forward.

Suddenly, he saw something on the floor. He couldn't quite make out the shape, but it looked like a hand.

"I found you," Spain said, stepping toward the figure on the floor. He knelt down beside it, shining the light from the phone on it.

There was blood.

Spain gasped, stepping back. He stumbled over something else, falling to the floor. Oh, God. It was another…

He was up in half a second, trying to find his way back to the door. He backed away from the bodies, his back hitting the wall. Something pointy hit him in the spine, and he whirled around. The light switch.

He flicked it on, eyes wide. His breath was quick, his heart pounding. The light that flooded through the room momentarily blinded him.

Spain squinted into the building, his fist clenched tightly around the phone. The first thing he saw was the blood. The entire floor seemed to be coated in it. His nose started to sting. No. He couldn't cry. Dammit.

His footsteps made red tracks across the floor, weaving in between the three bodies. Three. And one of them…one of them had short brown hair.

"Lovino…" Spain whispered, eyes watering. No, dammit. Don't cry. Please don't cry.

Dammit, Lovino. Don't be dead. Please don't be dead.

Spain sank to the floor, staring in disbelief at the body. The tears started to flow down his face, and he choked back a sob. There was so much blood. Oh, God. So much blood.

He dropped the phone, crawling across the floor to Lovino. He wasn't dead. This was a practical joke. It was all fake. No. He couldn't be dead.

"Come on, Lovi, get up. You got me, come on…" Spain whispered, staring down at the other's face. All the blood was coming from his chest. The blood was now soaking into Spain's jeans.

"Lovino, joke's over, okay? This isn't funny anymore!" Spain yelled, tears blurring his vision. He wiped at his face, smearing a bit of blood over his eye. "Dammit!" he screamed, slamming his fists into the ground.

He started to feel lightheaded. Spain let his head rest on the ground next to the body. "Come on, Lovi, you know I love you. Just wake up. It's okay. _Está bien. Todo está bien._"

His eyes closed, and let the tears go. He was drifting off, almost asleep. Was he really that tired? Maybe he'd wake up at home. That would be good.

As he was falling asleep, he felt the lights turn off. Then there were some footsteps, and the door closed.

…

It was the last day of the international meeting, but nobody came. After the murders of Sealand, Latvia and South Italy, the meeting had been cancelled. Spain had been found with them, but there was no evidence that he'd killed any of them. None at all.

So he was safe. But he wasn't talking anymore, to anyone. He'd taken a plane back to Spain and wasn't coming back. Isolation, they said. He was cutting himself off.

North Italy had taken the death of his brother hard. He wasn't himself anymore. Kiku, and now this? It was too much for him to take.

Germany was quiet. Italy was in their hotel room, sleeping. He did that a lot more often now. The taller nation had gone out to give him some space.

It wasn't that he'd ever _liked_ South Italy, who called him a potato bastard and hurt him every time they met. But seeing Italy so broken was so completely wrong.

"West!"

Germany turned to see Prussia running up to him. The latter was slightly out of breath.

"I've been looking everywhere! You need to go talk to England."

"Why?"

"He's setting up a freaking task force with China. To find out who's been killing people!"

Germany absorbed the information. "Does he want me to join?"

Prussia shook his head, eyes wide. "Dude, you have to talk to him."

"I don't understand."

"Man, China thinks you're the fucking murderer!"

...

_Okay, I actually started crying. But that was probably due to the music I was listening to at the time. (Kissing in Cars, by Pierce the Veil) Yeah. It's a pretty emo song._

_If you find any typos I'll gladly fix 'em!_

_Please review! Is it sad? Did you laugh (I hope not...)? Did you want to kill me? Or do you not care? Any way, gimme some feedbackz plz!_


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